Yet another Very Secret Diary Parody!
by TriscuitTheFlyingSnkCracker
Summary: Join Angel on his wacky, madcap adventures of soul hunting, kinkyness, and going for way, way, way underage girls.


Disclaimer: I am not Joss Wedon, I never have been Joss, I am not wearing one of those Mission Impossible masks that make you look like anybody, including Joss, I do not muffle my voice to make it sound like Joss's when I'm talking over the telephone, I do not own a car in the name of Joss Weaton, I do not own any part of Joss's works, ideas, or body parts. (Hmmmm.....Ew. But a great conversation starter that would be.) Neither am I that Very Secret Diary woman, who I adore beyond words (just can't remember the name for the life of me) for making my life have meaning in the form of Scented Bubble bath. Review it because ever time someone reviews it I get a nickel from the government, and I'm using that money to keep my mother in her iron lung alive. Sob!

**_THE VERY SECRET DIARY OF... ANGEL._**

**Day 1**: Got turned down by blond haired skinny chick. Very bitter. Must drown my sorrows in cheap eighteenth century beer. Walk out of bar, turn overly large caveman forehead. See Captain Cleavage. Wow! Look at that piece of tart! (Hey I'm Irish now, remember? I can say _piece of tart_.)

**Day 17**: Found out the chick (Darla was her name by the way.) have so much in common! We're both soulless supernatural creatures of the undead! Of course after the initial kinkfest with the biting and the...uh... more biting, got tired of it. She wanted to talk about 'our relationship' I left. Awwwww... how's 'bout just one more gypsy-finger-licking-good-treat? (Not Irish anymore. Thank god.)

**Day 30001**: Damn. Gypsy came with strings attached. Got soul back. Very sad. Must cope. I know! I'll get myself a surgical forehead enlargement! What? They're all the rage in... whatever-the-hell-country I'm in... and now can bludgeon enemies to death with my troll-like brow. Yay!

**Day 34523**: Sob Can't cope. So sad. Hey! A rat! If I catch it, it will give me love and comfort and the bubonic plague. It escaped... Ohhhhhhh. Sniffle, Sniffle, Brood

**Day 62702**: Finally caught and turned the rat. Now he's a undead, broody, rodent with a huge forehead. I see a love tryst with Amy coming. Oh, Met v. annoying New York demon named Whistler, told me to get a grip and get on with it. He has nooooo fashion taste. Not that being so alone and miserable for a hundred years turned me gay or anything. Of course not. No. Never! I'm not! Honestly!

**Day 62907**: Came to L.A in a blackened out car. I can't see anything out of the windows, so I can't drive, but hell, it's _L.A_! Whistle is bouncing up and down in the backseat, he has to pee. Again. Must remember to kill him. But I can't, I have a soul now. Brood

**Day 62987**: Overcame urge to sit in the darkness and mope, and tried to kill Whistler in his sleep. Unfortunately my post-soul fighting skills are about as exiting and dangerous as a weather report. But I left some nasty pinch marks before he woke up! Must remember to reward self with more hairgel. Yay! I love hairgel! It's like a squeezable friend. And if your really lonely in those long sewer nights, it can be a _very good_ friend. Later, Whistle asks if we can play Older-Male-Stalkers-Who-Like-To-Stare-At-_Very_-Underage-Schoolgirls again, and so to shut the little twerp up I take the car and go.

**Day 62987**: Whistle shows me to a Jr. High. See Buffy. Bored now. What?! She's what like, eighty pounds with the two-thousand dollar shoes. And OMG they just look gawd-awful on her! I mean cough! I wouldn't know about that because I'm a manly vampire. Bring on the red meat and beer and Nascar Racing! cough!

**Day 63021**: Wow! In the space of a year I've learned seventeen types of unarmed combat and mastered them all. Who taught me?.... uh... Shut up! Still stalking Buffy, plotting revenge fantasies against her wardrobe. Learn the Master's back in town. Oh man... Listen Darla told me about the guy, and it just got weird with him. He started watching that one show _Oz_ and, yeah, better left nothing said. Saw the Scooby gang today. Damn, that Xander is one fine bit of work. I'd like to eat him up, not in a blood-sucky way but more of...

Damn. Am forced to admit I may be a teeny bit gay.

**Day 63023**: Met Buffy today. Was introduced to the scooby gang. All thoughts of Xander driven from mind, when I saw that lust-bunny Giles... mmmmm... yummy. What you could to a tweedy British guy like that... Buffy noticed my drooling and slammed me into a wall. V. sad. Buffy will stake me if I try anything.

**Day 63024**: Master dead. No more Hellmouth kink... Yay?

**Day 63027**: Spike and Drusilla show up. Later, big rock falls on Spike, and I get saved by Buffy, Willow, Cordelia, Xander and _Giles_. He looked at me, he looked at meeee!

**Day 63024**: Met Buffy, told her about next apocalypse.

Me: Brood 'Wanna know how world is going to end? Brood

Buffy: 'Nope. Wanna have hot and sweaty sex?'

Me: Brood, Brood, raised eyebrow 'M-kay.'

She jumps my bones. Next morning she starts sucking my toes, and I moan "Giles?" so she's v. upset, and reaches for Mr. Pointy. (No. Not the stake.)

I go outside and smoke a cigarette and instantly turn evil. Because anybody who smokes on the hellmouth is _eeeeevil_.

**Day 63029**: Angelus is back, and straight as an arrow. Met up with Professor X. Spike and Psycho-Bitch Drusilla. I give her a human heart, she gives me wild and crazy sex. Spike watches. Is that a stake in your pocket there, Bleached Brit?

**Day 63033**: Draw pictures of people! And put the pictures of them in their beds! Ha! Who said I wasn't evil? Also killed Willow's fish for good measure. Stupid fish. And now there dead! HA HA HA! And that Techno-witch. She was going to turn me into that magnificent over-gelled poof Angel again!

Hmmm... I've been hanging around Spike to much, haven't I?

**Day 63034**: Giles comes in a beats the living crap out of me with a big honking flaming stick. Jesus. 'The Tweed Man Cometh'. As much as Angel would like this, I don't, so I Judo-chop him to the floor. Blah blah blah, Buffy saves him, Blah blibbety-Blah, I get my undead ass kicked. sigh V. Sad.

**Day 63034**: Am stalking the women. Willow, wracked with grief and rage over her fish wants to go hand to hand with me. Actually wouldn't mind that, Will. Dru thinks kink is ripping your eyeballs out. Interesting, but Wheely McFeely can have her.

**Day 63037**: Found a big box with a homeless demon. Spike is all "It's a big box, my friends will be jealous, they don't have a box this big." Ever since he accidentally died his hair bubble-gum pink he's been all upset. And the fact that I caught him dancing to Celiene Dion. Quite impressed really, he can moonwalk. Isn't he supposed to be acting like a cripple though? Ah, screw it.

**Day 63038**: Willow tries to go mono a mono with me.

Willow: My name is Willow Rosenburg. You killed my carp. Prepare to die. (Whips out a Star of David)

Me: Nope, not working. Wanna shag?

Willow: Damn those Casanova eyes!... Sure.

Later...

Me: Oh! Oh! I am your puppy!

**Day 63038**: The morning after. Willow tells me she will never love another man. Well... that's true, yes. But then she gets clingy. Wants to settle down. Wants to rent _Steel Magnolias._ I get the hell out of there. Now hanging with homeless demon Akathla.

**Day 63038**: Another slayer shows up. Kendra. Tried to kill me once. Bitch. Oh yeah and having Akathala around for a roomie isn't fun. He pisses in the _sink_. I pick up one of my swords and shove it into him. 'Cause I'm evil. He gets all huffy and turns to stone with v. stupid expression. And I know what I'm talking about here.

**Day 63039**: Come to the school again, see that Kendra is sitting on the card file with her eyes gouged out. Her hair's a mess and she's wearing Dru's shirt. So crazed cockney bitch likes the girls as well as the boys. Neat. Noting the tweedy British guy shaped impression on the floor.

**Day 63039**: Hey! Giles is at my place! It's Torture Time! I lean in front of Giles, getting on my hands and knees. Damn. Angel's fighting harder than ever to get out. Bored now. Decide to raise Akathala.

**Day 63039**: I pull sword out of big and paper mache-y demon. Buffy comes in moping and whining, wanting a shoulder to cry on. Seems her friends care more about living than they do about her personal issues. "They just haven't realized that everything that happens is about meeeee!" Cram it blonde. I start poking her with the sword. Spike comes over and starts Brit fighting me (That's to say, a lot of slapping and fingernails.) and runs off with Dru. Xander comes in and carts off Giles. In equal parts trying to save him and cop a feel. Damnit! I knew there was something going on between them! They leave. Willow does her witch mojo and give me back a soul. Brood Hey look! The hell-demon's got something a his feet! Ooooh! A skittle! (I get yanked into hell) Yearrgghhh!

**Day.... Oh screw it**: Have been down here for hundred years. Richard Simmons is with me, all the time. FOR THE LOVE OF GOD MAKE HIM STOP SINGING! So is the cast from cast from _The Flying Nun_ for some reason. Must get out. Hey look another skittle! Yearrrbroodargh!

**Day 1**: Hell for some reason took off my shirt but left on my pants. Angel pants. Monkey pants. My two favorite phrases of all time. Hee. Met Buffy today.

Buffy: 'Hey aren't you the first guy I banged?'

Me: 'Grunt. Grunt.'

All hell and no play makes Angel a dull boy.

All hell and no play makes Angel a dull boy.

All hell and no play makes Angel a dull boy.

All hell and no play makes Angel a dull boy.

All hell and no play makes Angel a dull boy.

**Day 2**: Buffy takes me home to Joyce. She's all "Can we keep him? I'll feed him and water him and snuggle him." Both Joyce and I wince. Joyce doesn't interfere because she knows Buffy will kill her if she tries anything.

**Day 3**: Buffy explains that she's going out with someone. Scott. "Scott? The guy from the forest that I met? He was molesting squirrels! And he did something with a carrot you wouldn't _believe_. Trying to think of a word to describe him... Sounds like 'Hay', starts with G." Pot, meet kettle, I know.

**Day 356**: I tell Buffy that we should start seeing other people. She attempts to castrate me. V. Sad.

**Day 360**: Mayor dead. That little sexpot Faith is gone sniff Drove off to L A. in tune with rockin' cello music. Yeah Buffy, you've got Nerf Herder, I've got kick ass Beethoven! Originally wanted M. C. Hammer, but you can't always get what you want.

**Day 370**: Found this diserted apartment/office/Clue-ish mansion. With several thousand dollars worth of gold bullion and Spanish pieces of eight in the basement. Books and swords on the walls, and five dead bodies in the fireplace. Nifty! Now I have a new place to brood... Brood

**Day 371**: Met Doyle today, all beer-fumey. Guy's starting to remind me of Whistler. Say, whatever happened to that guy? Oh yeah! I ate his liver when I was Angelus!

**Day 372**: We all go out to a bar called the Broken Carrot.

I dance.

Everybody stares openmouthed in shock.

Later....... Ammm shhhooo drunk noww. Can't dance. Doyle isssh onnne ssexy rag, man. Weee hug... cuddle. I can't remember what happened next. I had eleven bourbons.

**Day 374**: Woke up in bed with terrible hangover. Felt dead. Check that. Okay, am dead.

Right, rub it in why don't ya. Didn't lose soul, so it can't have been that good of a night.

**Day 375**: Spike showed up. My my my he's looking very gaunt... and delicious too, meow! Oz came too, so now I have a fellow brooder. I feel smug. His forehead's nowhere near as big as mine! Hee! Spike want his ring back, and I play hard to get. He's so hot when he's angry. He takes me to his warehouse, chains me up and, yeah... uh.. tortures me. Sure... that's it. Torture. Uh-huh. Damn, I need a cigarette.

Oz rescues me, and I kill a bald guy, all in a days work well done. I feel special.

**Day 376**:Cordeila gets her own apartment, finds out its possessed. Doyle is in trouble with the mob. I'm deciding weather the curtains should match the drapes or the carpet. This is so stressful!!! Doyle's watching Martha Stewart now, so you know, you've got to wonder about him being the straightest lobster in the tank.

Turns out that Cordelia's apartment is haunted and all. Pervy ghost walked in on me and Cordy showering together once (Honestly, she just has hard to reach places!). Then the second time. Then the time after that...

**Day 377**: Doyle's wife shows. snort This guy had a wife!?! BWAH HA HA! Come on, he's fruitier that a fruitcake dropped at a gay pride march in San Francisco! But damn, she looks pretty fine... Angel mojo is working, and since waiting for Giles (He never even _writes..._ sob! ) to come to my show is like waiting for Buffy to sleep with Spike, I am now a closet straight. Damn, chick has a husband. I start stalking. Boy this is fun! I think I'll do it to Buffy sometime! I see Doyle's ex though window. Bust in. Well _I _thought it was cool. Oh, her fiancee's a demon. Okay, that I believe would constitute kink to the third power. He's all red and... latex-y! And holding a butcher knife the size of New Hampshire. Yipe. Must pay for the window. V. sad. I like money. Tear. I try to cheer myself up with some post-window-breaking-sex with Cordy, but she says she has feelings for Doyle. Damn him and his Irish ways!

**Day 378**: Whipping out my new bad-ass image. I wear all black, but to remind Cordeilia that I'm not evil, I put on a solid grey tie. She'll stake me if I try anything.

**Day 379**: Why do I have six thousand dollars worth of medieval weaponry in my basement? Perhaps the medieval weapon fairy? (No, not Giles)

**Day 380**: Ah crap. Buffy found out that I was in Sunnydale. But Willow gave me a piggy-back ride. Yay! Oh yeah and there was that thing where we killed this demon and I went human and we shagged like bunnies and then I almost got my ass beaten into my face by the same demon and then we shagged some more and then I decided being human was going to make me fat and then called the Oracles up and told them to do their thing and now she doesn't remember it. That was that. Ooooo! Doyle got a new overcoat! This one's brown!

**Day 381**: Hey you know that Doyle guy? Remember him? Well me and him were sitting around playing battleship in the office when all of a sudden he gets one of those headaches (Uhh, Doyle? It's supposed to be the chick who gets the headaches. Sheesh.) So beating off the vultures circling around his forehead and crumpling up the black spot on a piece of paper he got in the mail, he tells me that there are some puppies we've got to save or something. To the Angelmobile! So we get there and there are a bunch of Jews, er... demons, hiding from the SS, er... Scourge. So I play all evil, and go over to the dark side. They don't try to kill me, and somehow we end up on a big boat. A _boat_?! Yeah, so they get out the big blind-y light thing of doom, and I give my death speech, and nod to the cameraman. He nods back, turns the camera away from us, and I chuck Doyle at the big light. He explodes, but defuses it. I give the cameraman a twenty. I'll miss Doyle. Brood Okay. Done missing him. How you doin' Cordeilia?

I must confess I stole the Willow/Fish line from Television Without Pity .com, which is a site you should go to. Now. Get off the fan-fic site immediately. Do not hesitate. We have swat team in place and snipers on the rooftops and will take your home by force if we have to. We have full support from the Russians on this.

Oh and by the way, if the timeline seems a little screwed up... to hell with you, I _really_ don't care. I'm just trying to encompass 4 seasons here, and if I didn't do the third, big loss. 'Cept Faith. Mmmmmm.... Faith.

P.S. Got a companion to this story. Very Secret Dairy of... Doyle. Read it and you'll be cool.


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